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I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Seeing ghosts wasn’t normal, even for the undead.
Needing space to think, I left the party and hightailed it to my favorite place, the hydroponic greenhouse.
The faint hiss of moisture traveling to the plants’ roots interrupted the silence. Otherwise, it was quiet and empty. Just the way I liked it.
I needed time to regroup. Seeing a literal ghost from the past, plus the toy soldier, was a bit much.
And this wasn’t the first time I’d seen Jonathan. He’d appeared at the foot of the bed when my child was conceived. That by itself was disturbing enough. The fact that’d I’d convinced myself it was my imagination didn’t help me.
I hadn’t told Ian because it was too mortifying.
Then why did I feel so guilty?
You know why, said my conscience. Only its voice took on the posh accent of my Aunt Cassandra. The cray-cray one. The relative brushed under the rug.
Crap.
I didn’t want her voice in my head. Thinking about my past wasn’t particularly helpful, given the situation. Everyone has secrets they don’t admit to their friends or spouse. I was brought up in a time when many things remained private. Especially family matters. Everyone has one relative relegated to the family time-out corner.
Mine was Aunt Cassandra.
She was crazy as a loon. Madder than a hatter. Nuttier than a squirrel. In fact, she was plain insane, insisting she saw the future, foretelling our doom with the precision of a train schedule.
Everyone knew about her “episodes,” as they were referred to. Though no one in the family would comment about her condition in polite society. It just wasn’t done. Brows would furrow over cups of tea. Tuts of pity for the beleaguered family were hinted at but never explicitly expressed.
Of course, without having to say it, everyone knew one day she would go too far. Unfortunately for me, I was the impetus for the men with white coats. Well, in those days, they didn’t have white coats, but that’s how I remember it.
The afternoon they came to take her away, the sun shone with crisp sharpness only seen on a summer day.
My mother’s prized Japanese irises had bloomed a purplish blue, the shade mimicking the fresh bruises on my arms. I’d been hiding outside, creeping behind an unruly hedgerow, staring at the façade of Belmont Manor. Trepidation pulsed through my veins with enough force that my heart seemed to race ahead of my body. I watched the windows, expecting her to appear at any moment. I imagined the fanatical gleam in her glassy eyes as she sought me out for another round of madness. The phantom sensation of her pincer-like grip throbbed against my battered skin. I shrank down behind the hedge, choking down quiet sobs.
I didn’t want her to find me again. My absence from my morning lessons would be discovered at any moment, I was sure of it. A steady clip-clop of hooves roused me. The carriage was unlike any I’d ever seen before. Box-shaped with dark windows. A heavy iron padlock secured the passenger door.
Shrinking further into the shrubs, I watched through a break in the branches. My dress would be filthy. I’d be punished, but I didn’t fear the sting of a spanking as much as my Aunt Cassandra.
A horrible thought had rattled in my young brain. What if they were here for me?
I flattened, wishing I could burrow into the ground like a mole. Quiet as I could, I breathed shallowly through my noise, hand covering my mouth.
The carriage stopped. A man stepped down from next to the driver’s seat, dressed in a somber black suit. White wisps of hair drifted under the brim of his battered top hat, haloing it like milkweed down. The pale man headed toward the manor’s great oaken door, his shoulders slumped as if he’d been given a sad duty. Before he could knock, the front door opened. Shrieks, sudden and violent, escaped from the foyer—the pitiful sound of a wretched animal caught in a trap.
“You can’t do this to me! I’m your sister!” Cassandra shouted. She’d been dressed for an outing. Sturdy shoes, a dark skirt, and plain coat. Her hairdo lopsided. Tendrils had escaped one side, indicating she hadn’t willingly agreed to leave.
My mother stepped forward and spoke to her in low tones. I couldn’t make out most of the words, but I caught snippets of phrases such as “for the good of the family” and “maintain decorum.”
“Charity! Charity! You must run. I tried to hide you from the devil for your own good!” Her words were targeted, biting me with the force of multiple wasp stings.
“No! No! You can’t take me. I won’t let you!” My aunt lunged, evading the grasps of my father and two underbutlers. For a moment, she stopped, sighting me in the hedge. I don’t know how she did it, but she always had an uncanny knack for finding me.
A sob escaped before I pushed my face into the damp grass and played dead like a possum I’d once seen in America.
Her long finger pointed at me. “Heed my words, girl. Run now. Run!”
There was a soft oomph. Fabric tore with a sharp rip. Gravel shifted under heavy-booted feet. My aunt’s cries muffled then stopped. I opened my eyes in time to witness the pale man remove a white cloth from her nose and mouth. They quickly bundled Aunt Cassandra into the carriage, the driver whipping the horses into a gallop as they disappeared down the drive. My mother entered the house without a backward glance, a line of grim servants following behind her.
Cold to the core, she didn’t bother to check if I was there. I didn’t exist in her world. My father must have pitied me. He located me and trundled me into his arms, not caring that fathers didn’t handle their children. Without a word, he brought me to the greenhouse and handed me an embroidered handkerchief. The unspoken message was clear: Pull yourself together.
I sorted through events while mopping my tears. My terrified mind refused to relive what she had done. But I knew the basic facts. Aunt Cassandra was in big trouble. She’d done something bad. And because I’d been involved, I felt I was to blame.
I shook the memories away and faced the more immediate issue. The very real ghost haunting me.
Unless . . .
Hope darted through me.
Before coming to Mars, I used to become trapped in visions. Jonathan once told me he could feel my consciousness leave my body. How weird is that?
I touched the gold cuff on my right wrist. A so-called gift from Queen Victoria, our now dead queen of vampires. Enkil’s cuff—yes, it had a name—had belonged to another ancient queen. Queen Azaral of the Eliade, to be precise. The race that once inhabited Mars long before humans dominated the earth.
Was it too much to hope that Jonathan was another vision?
“I wished it worked that way.”
My heart leapt into my throat. I refused to turn around and see Jonathan standing there. “Nope. No. No. You do not get to do this to me.”
“Charity. I am truly sorry.”
“Says the man who won’t stay dead.” I rubbed my baby bump, the gesture settling my nerves.
The sound of fingers scraping over stubble reverberated up my spine. In life, he’d rubbed his chin when he didn’t know what to say to me. Unable to stand it, I turned around to face him. If I still had breath, it would have caught in my throat. In another time and place, I would have described him as jaw-droppingly handsome. Dark full hair, strong jaw, deep blue eyes, and full lips. He had a face that stopped conversations and garnered every ounce of attention. And he knew it too. He’d wielded his beauty like a weapon, when it served his purposes.
Too bad his gorgeous head was tucked under his arm like a basketball. The stump of his neck, cleanly sliced, glistened with scarlet blood and bleached white bone.
I leaned over and vomited fruit punch into the nearest plants. Wiping my mouth with my hand, I forced myself to look again. “You could have warned me.”
“I cannot help how I appear to you. I take the opportunities given to me. I regret that you must see me like this. My message is dire. You must listen.”
“Trust me. You have my full attention.” It was hard to see him headless. The manner of his death haunted me. He had chosen execution to save his Family. To save me. The baby wiggled in my belly as if sharing the same thought.
He dropped to his knees, his body replaying its death moment. “You can’t stop what’s coming, but you don’t have to go along with it either. Be brave, Charity. Take help wherever you may find it.”
“How about you just tell me what is going to happen?” Riddles piss me off. Be direct, I always say.
“Not how it works,” he panted. Spasms quaked his arms. The severed head fell to the ground with a stomach-turning squish. His eyes rolled upward. Phantom blood spurted from his neck. “Time will have its way.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. I couldn’t watch him die again.
Footsteps shuffled somewhere among the plants. I spun around. Bad things had happened to me before when I was alone in the greenhouse. Not that I expected to be attacked, but a girl could never be too careful.
Something approached on two legs, body obscured by leafy greens.
“Had enough of the party?” Louis said, words muffled by stacked planting trays.
“Yup.” If Jonathan had been there, he was gone. If he showed again, maybe I’d remember to use the cuff to analyze him. If I could keep my wits about me for a change. “You on duty today?”
Trays banged against a metalwork bench. Puffs of Martian dust floated upward despite the humidity in the greenhouse. Dust was perpetual and plentiful here.
“Someone needs to tend the plants. It’s my turn.” He smiled with the same doofus grin that zombies always sported when talking about plants. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I shrugged, not wanting to get into the whole ghost thing.
“You can’t fool me. Let me guess, you’re bummed because Prior is leaving.” Louis grinned again, flashing his adorable dimples.
“Yeah, that’s totally it.” I rolled my eyes.
His smile fell flat. “Seriously. Something has you spooked. I could go find one of the Rogues. Or Ian. I’m sure he’d be happy to investigate.” The Rogues were a band of renegade vampires that lived independent of Families. Ian was their freely appointed leader but not blood bonded to them like a traditional Sire. They’d saved my bacon more than once in the war against Thalia.
I frowned. “Playing hardball, are we?”
Irritating as it was, I had to admire Louis’ use of blackmail. He knew me well enough to know that if I hadn’t called Ian, I was hiding something. And believe me, it’s not easy to hide strong emotions from a bonded mate.
“Whatever works. I’m just going to attach these trays while you find your words.” He clicked the trays in the growing racks.
I paced the floor, fingers brushing the greenery. It was remarkable how we managed to grow food. It used to gross me out when I thought about the special ingredient feeding the soil—molted zombie skin. I’ve since gotten over it. Mostly.
The last tray snapped into place, signaling time was up. Louis turned and folded his arms. I was thankful he didn’t impatiently tap his foot. Yet.
“I’m done. Now give.” Louis stepped near enough to hear me over the machines.
I swallowed hard. The words lodged in my throat. I knew I could confide in Louis. I trusted him and I knew he wouldn’t laugh—much. I also knew he would keep my secret.
“Did I ever mention I have visions?”
He shook his head. I continued before I lost my nerve and bolted. There was nothing inherently wrong with visions, but, given my family history, thoughts of men in white coats were never far behind. “They went away after we came to Mars. Now they’re back.”
And more interactive. Yup, that was the lie I was telling myself.
A strange brightness glimmered in Louis’ eyes. Wonderment flashed across his face. His mouth opened in awe. Or maybe surprise because he thought I was insane. “You must be Founder touched.”
Or just touched. In the head. To stop the comment, I bit down on my lip. “Founder?”
“First-kind. Only those who are direct descendants of the First-kind are blessed with extra gifts.”
“Like being a Blue Blood isn’t gift enough?” I grumbled. Having a special blood type had made me a virtual prisoner. Especially in the early decades. Jonathan had never let me stray far out of his sight for fear I’d be captured and used in the blood trade.
Louis continued to stare at me as though I’d sprouted wings and a halo. His expression hardened. “Some things should not be joked about.”
“Believe me. I don’t think it’s funny.” Subtle pangs rippled up my spine. I’d been standing too long. I shifted from foot to foot. Louis watched me before darting away. A moment later, he reappeared, wheeling an office chair in my direction.
I sunk into the chair, relieved to be off my feet. “Are Founders so rare?”
Louis picked up a spray bottled and spritzed a row of plants. “Yes. I’ve never met a zombie First-kind.”
Was Jonathan one of them? He had been much older than he’d let on. But Ian dated back several thousand years. He once told me his village had seen a star fall from the sky. I’d have to find a way to ask him without arousing suspicions. I know it didn’t make any sense, but I didn’t want Ian thinking I’d lost my mind. Or worrying about me. He had enough on his plate with running the colony and managing the space revenants.
Something else pricked my memory. Something about the Eliade, the ancients. . .
“Have you had a terrible vision?” he asked from another row over. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t noticed him move away.
“Not exactly,” I said, rubbing my belly. The baby must have been sleeping because she’d stopped jumping around.
“I saw—”
“Sire? Are you in here?” Nina called from the airlock.
“Over here!” Louis waved. “Another time?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I said. Talking with Louis reminded me to stop spending so much time alone.
One of the best parts of being in a vampire family is that you’re never alone if you don’t want to be.
Nina joined me among the plants. “Are you ready? We wondered where you’d disappeared to.”
“I needed some me time.”
“Harmony sent us looking. She mentioned you might have forgotten.”
“Never,” I said, summoning the energy to smile.
Part two of the day’s extravaganza—a ladies-only sleepover in my quarters. We’d started holding them once a month. This month it was my turn and the ladies had scheduled the shower to coincide.
I’d been trying to convince the women in my Family that we could be friends too. We’d formed a tighter bond since coming to Mars. Sure, we’d spent decades together working as entertainers, but because I was the Sire’s wife and confidante, the others had kept their distance.
Call me crazy, but I wasn’t going to live on Mars speaking only to Ian, Jay, Louis, and Harmony. I didn’t believe in “hands off” as a management style. We were in this together. And in such a small group, we couldn’t afford to let resentment, elitist attitudes, or plain old bitchiness divide us. Plus, as their Sire, I could sense when morale dipped. Sad to say, I’d been sensing loneliness more often these days.
Festering emotions can be fatal to us undead types. Better to deal with it before it became a serious issue. And what better way than having some girls’ nights in my apartment?
Ian had taken the news that I was kicking him out of our home like a champ. He’d overnight with the Rogues. He’d be fine.
“The baby’s room is adorable,” Brandy said, rejoining the group in the main room.
The turnout so far, five females. Three vampires and two revenants. I didn’t discriminate. Any flavor of the undead was welcome.
“Thanks to you.” I may have a killer sense of stripper style, but my decorating skills are severely lacking. I’ve been told, “too much grandma, not enough flair.” Ouch. “The baby shower was a wonderful surprise.”
“Our pleasure.” Brandy leaned in. “Nina said you hated surprises. I guess she was wrong.”
Nina snorted. “Brandy, sit down. The dip is getting cold.”
Obviously, she’d heard. No matter. I lowered myself into a chair. Brandy found a spot wedged in on the floor near the low coffee table.
Nina had been experimenting with creating “food” like kale chips with mushy fruit dip. She cited fatigue from drinking juice pouches. “We’re not toddlers. I refuse to eat like one,” had been her exact words.
“Looks yummy,” I said, trying to mean it. The undead and solid food didn’t usually mix well.
Nina chuckled but didn’t call me out on my skepticism. A perk of my being Sire— no one wanted to contradict me. It was also a limitation, in my book. Nothing good ever comes from telling a person only what they want to hear. As Jonathan could have attested to. I’d never let him get away with much.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Harmony said from the doorway. “I don’t hold much regard for kale. It gives me a stomachache. But I did bring these.” She set down a tray of long, narrow, orange things.
“Fingers?” I hoped not.
Brandy tittered. “I was going to say the world’s smallest dingies.”
“You mean dicks,” Nina corrected.
Muriel, one of the revenants, chimed in, “The bigger the better, I say.”
“And they’re off,” muttered Joan, resident anthropologist and one of the few vampires not in my Family. She took a kale chip and nibbled the corner like a rabbit testing a patch of clover.
Hey, we women can be just as crude as men. Don’t judge.
Harmony wasn’t amused. “They’re canapés. Made from carrots and lime gelatin.”
“Waste of perfectly good gelatin shots, if you ask me,” said someone in the corner of the room.
I laughed. The “what happens in the room, stays in the room” rule was in effect.
“I will pleasure, for a full year, whoever creates an alcohol that gets me drunk.” Nina meant every word. About the pleasure and the drinking. It wasn’t the first time she’d suggested it. That explained why Jay was actively working on concoctions in his lab. Sex with Nina for a year was motivational.
“Who gets to pick the game tonight?” I asked. My pregnancy brain couldn’t remember.
“It’s Cherry’s turn,” said Nina. “Brandy picked last time. The next letter is C.”
That’s right. We played the latest card game from Earth, the one with the black and white cards. I’m sure you know which one I mean. There aren’t a lot of rules to our gatherings, besides the aforementioned silence, but we have to rotate our fun so things don’t get stale.
I cursed myself for that rule. I hadn’t thought one iota about the game. I know some of the girls spent weeks planning. Not me. I was lucky to remember to match my socks.
After some robust suggestions, Nina held up her hand. The silence in the room was aimed at me.
I said the first thing that came to mind. “Truth or Dare.”
There were a few gasps. I wished I had thought of Go Fish first. Why? Because the undead generally don’t like to talk about the past. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have been thinking of a way to get everyone to talk. Go me. Except I’d have to talk too.
“Ladies. A reminder. You must answer truthfully.” Nina cracked her knuckles. She was always up for anything.
“And you can’t choose a dare or the truth every time either,” Joan added. Of everyone in the room, she appeared most concerned. I could only imagine what she wanted to keep secret.
“This ought to be interesting,” Harmony said over my shoulder in between nibbling a canapé.
“Yup,” was all I would commit to. “Lucky you. You’re on my right so you get the first question.”
Harmony coughed and banged her chest. “Ugh. That went down funny. Go ahead. I can handle the truth.”
Everyone’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Harmony was so dignified and proper most of the time. It would be fun seeing if she could be rattled into a dare. No pressure on me or anything.
Pressure could explain the question I asked. “Truth or Dare. Have you ever slept with one of the Rogues?”
“Dare.” She didn’t skip a beat. The look she gave me promised serious payback.
“Curse like a sailor for twenty seconds straight.”
I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say despite her calm demeanor, Harmony can cuss like a boss.
That was the icebreaker everyone needed. The game took off at a feverish pace, finally circling around to me. Luckily, Nina was the one to ask my question. Harmony’s payback would come some other time, some other place.
I braced myself, hands rubbing my belly. The baby kicked like a boss too. Like she was eager to hear the question.
Nina faced me. “If you could, would you turn back time and change your past?”
My brows furrowed. I’d been ready to answer a raunchy question like everyone else had. What choice did I have? I was extremely pregnant and physical antics were off limits. The tone in the room deflated too. “Time travel isn’t possible.”
“Quit stalling,” said Harmony.
An answer lodged in my brain. One I couldn’t make myself answer out loud. “Dare.”
Whoops and hollers went around the room. I think I’d shocked everyone. Nina probably thought she’d delivered me a softball question, but like everything when you’re undead, it wasn’t so easy to answer.
Nina bit her bottom lip, unsure of what to dare me. Harmony circled around and whispered something in her ear. Nina’s expression lit up. “You have to play a song slapping your butt cheeks until someone guesses what it is.”
“You’re welcome,” Harmony said with an evil grin.
Yeah, payback was a bitch. My butt hurt for a solid hour afterward. No one could guess my damn song. I should have picked something more obvious.
But the spirit of the question lingered into the next round of the night like Jonathan’s unwanted shade. I half expected him to reappear. Thankfully, he hadn’t.
The slumber party was in full swing with blankets and pillows in a circle on the floor. Except for me. Pregnant women didn’t crawl on floors. The ladies propped me on the couch, pillows supporting my sore back.
Nina lay on her stomach, resting on her elbows. Her fingers twisted the corner of her pillowcase. “Have you ever wondered if we should go back?”
Brandy rose up and stared at her. “To Earth?”
“Ach, no,” said Muriel, her Scottish accent peeking through. “Whatever for?”
“I don’t know. Don’t you miss the ocean? Or smelling pizza and coffee?” Nina’s forlorn question seeped into me. As her Sire, I could feel strong emotions in close proximity.
“We’re safer now,” Brandy said, nervously glancing toward me.
“Hey. None of that,” I said. “There is no right or wrong here.”
“Yes, but . . .” Nina sighed. A heaping lump of regret landed in my head. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone.”
A collective nod of agreement passed around the room.
Joan spoke first, not hiding her bemusement. “Let me get this straight. If I’m reading this conversation correctly, you’re saying there aren’t enough men here?”
“Not the kind you can fall in love with,” Nina confirmed.
Ouch. Poor Jay. He and Nina had been having a not-so-discreet boink-fest in his lab.
“We can’t all be as lucky as Cherry,” Muriel pointed out. I think it was meant to be helpful, but the comment landed in the room with the subtlety of a fart.
What could I say? Nothing useful. Nina had a point. After close to a century under Jonathan, the ladies had all but eschewed serious entanglements. Jonathan was fine with romances but they couldn’t interfere with business. He didn’t want to deal with angry boyfriends. And believe me, given the age most of us came from, it would be an issue. At the time, it made perfect sense. Except now, I was the Sire. And that rationale didn’t belong on Mars.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” I had to think about what to do with the information.
Worry creased Nina’s face. “Please don’t take my musings the wrong way. I don’t want to leave Mars.”
Tiredness captured me with a vengeance. I stifled a yawn, not wanting Nina to think it was a reflection on her. “It’s a valid point. We all deserve to be loved.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I grow weary of this,” Harmony tapped the panel controlling the lights. “Time for rest.”
The room darkened. They drifted off. The vampires who were bonded to me slept the soundest. I could tell. The others stopped moving completely. For the record, the undead can and do sleep. We don’t need it the same way mortals do, but we like it and it rejuvenates us.
And what about me? I stared at the ceiling, thinking about what Nina said. I’d been lucky to find my true soul mate. Was I being unfair keeping everyone on Mars where eligible mates were in short supply? Granted, I wouldn’t know until the baby was born if she could handle life on Earth. Was I willing to risk it?
Was I being selfish?
Jonathan came to mind. He’d wanted me after a single song. If he hadn’t heard me sing, would he have noticed me at all? And Jay. He’d been dragged into my undead life because he was my friend and Jonathan wanted me to have a trusted companion. More like a pet, I’m sure, revolting as that sounds. Jay and I reconciled our strange relationship years ago. But Jonathan and I had left much unsaid.
If a time machine appeared then and there, would I change time? I couldn’t be certain.
Nina’s question haunted me well into the morning.
* * *
“CHERRY? WAKE UP, LUV.” Ian nudged me. His blond hair tickled my nose as he kissed me on the cheek.
I swatted his hand away. I needed to bank every moment of sleep possible. “Five more minutes.”
“Prior requested we see him off,” Ian said. “Remember? You don’t want to miss saying goodbye to your favorite person. You can have a nap later.”
“He’s not my favorite person,” I groused. Guilt gnawed at me. I imagined how I’d feel in his place. Since departures from the colony were rare, I’m sure we wouldn’t be the only ones to see him off. “Fine. I’m awake.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ian offered me a hand up, which I’m sad to say I needed. He’d also thoughtfully provided me with a fruit smoothie for breakfast and a minty tea concoction.
I knocked back the tea first. After a quick splash of cold water, I dressed in grown-up clothes because Ian insisted I not wear pajamas. I took the smoothie for the ride to the spaceport. Ian helped me into the lander and offered me the controls. I passed, not feeling like driving.
The sun was rising, the light as weak as I felt. Another few hours of sleep would have been nice.
Ian started the speeder without comment.
Good man.
“Does this baby bump make me look fat?” Oh yeah, I went there. I asked the type of question men universally abhor. After being woken out of a sound sleep, I was due some fun.
Ian, who is as smart as he his handsome, politely sidestepped my question.
“You are beautiful.” His long fingers trailed a path across my stomach. The baby stirred, following his touch. “There. See? Even the child agrees.”
“She doesn’t know anything yet,” I grumped, trying to ignore the slow ache climbing from my hips to my lower back.
Ian’s bemusement was followed by a faint snort. “Still convinced it’s a girl, eh, luv? My money is on a boy.”
Being the smug mommy, I was absolutely convinced I was right.
The problem with absolutes is that they are never, well, absolute.
For instance, everyone used to believe Mars was populated with LGM, aka Little Green Men. One of my biggest disappointments was discovering there weren’t any. Sad but true. A charming fabrication created by mortals back on Earth.
I’m pretty convinced some LGM would have made my time on Mars more interesting.
Ian’s blue eyes twinkled. “Do you miss it, Cherry?”
Longing filtered through our shared mental bond. While we couldn’t read each other’s thoughts, we could sense moods and strong emotions. I recognized his yearning all too well.
“Sometimes.” More like most days. I missed Earth. The grass, blue skies, bird’s songs, raindrops, and global warming. Mars, dead as daytime soap operas, had been a hard adjustment.
Sure, it had been fine when we were fleeing for our lives from Thalia, a revenge-driven vampire queen. It’s even been nice creating a whole new world for the undead. But as they say in real estate, location, location, location.
“Ah, luv. You’re not being truthful with yourself.” Ian set the speeder on autopilot and slid across the bench seat. He drew me into his arms, enclosing me in a warm, comforting hug. His chin rested lightly on the crown of my head.
“Home is where you are.” And if it came down to a choice—Ian vs. Mars—my husband would win, hands down, every time.
“Same here, darling.” He pressed his lips softly against my hair. “I’ve grown accustomed to a more sedate life. No more running. No more hiding.”
“It is liberating to be ourselves, isn’t it?” And there was the rub. If we returned, it was back to a life of living in the shadows and denying our right to exist. Plus, there was the real concern our daughter might not be able to survive on Earth.
Nina’s time travel question surfaced in my mind. “Ian, have you ever wondered? Are we doing the right thing?”
“We aren’t forcing anyone to stay.”
“Easy for you say. You’ve never been a Sire.”
“And how do you know that?” He stopped caressing my neck. Irritation rang in my head.
“Dude. What crawled up your panties?” I’d touched a nerve.
“Aren’t you the one wearing panties?” He ran his hand toward the curve of my ass. “Better yet, are you commando?”
“Don’t change the subject. Have you been a Sire?” I faced him, arms crossed. I hated it when he pointed out that there were still parts of his past I didn’t know about. I think he liked to throw me off in an argument. Look at me, I’m so old and wise. Pfft, is what I say to that.
“Never. I won’t enslave them to my will. The Rogues fight for each other because of the bonds we formed naturally. Not because of some mystical hoo-ha.”
“And what about our mating bond?” I didn’t like where this was headed, but I’d set us on this road. “Is it a magical ball and chain to you?”
He rubbed the base of his neck. “Naw, luv. Don’t go reading into things I never intended to imply.”
“Then don’t act high and mighty,” I said, annoyance transmitting loud and clear. “I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were,” he said smoothly.
“Don’t treat me like a cranky, pregnant woman.” The words spilled out, confirming I was acting erratic and hormone laden. I took a deep breath. Yes, I know I don’t need air, but it made me feel better. More in control. “Back to my original concern.”
“Right. You’re worried about being selfish.” Ian stared at the horizon. “Why don’t you ask them what they want?”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, I could see how some of them might think I don’t want them. And for others, it might cause them to view it as a sign of weakness.”
“Whoa. I think you’re spiraling here. Yes. Those things could happen.”
“But?” I prompted.
“Maybe the sun will fall from the sky,” he said. “Why worry about every possibility?”
I hated it when he answered a question with a question.
“There is one other thing. Something we take for granted.” I thought about how I might feel if I were stuck here with no Ian. We had been so lucky to find each other. “What about love? My Family consists mostly of single females.”
“True, there is a limited pool of choices here. But we’ve discussed why we can’t grow the colony. We have to be able to support the population we have.”
“I know. You’re right.” The issue had no easy or obvious solution.
The speeder slowed, stopping a few yards from the spaceport. Ian jumped out, then offered me assistance. He’d carry me the short distance to the entrance, if I’d let him. But maybe time bounding over the rocky terrain would help the baby come faster.
She must have like the idea because she flip-flopped, bounced off my bladder, then settled with a squirm. Sometimes, when I hovered between asleep and awake, I could hear her mind. I hadn’t told Ian because it sounded so damn weird. Since I was charting new territory, I had no one to ask.
And no time to think about it anymore. It seemed we were the last to arrive.
The spaceport was filled with colonists. A shuttle waited to take Prior to the ship in orbit. Kasia, the sentient entity that controlled the craft, would take good care of him. But space travel wasn’t without risk. The Veil, the fold in space-time used to shorten the distance, was especially dangerous. A shudder passed over me thinking about the mind-bending weirdness I’d witnessed when we’d traversed it. I didn’t envy Prior.
“Thank you everyone.” Prior stood in the center of a circle of well-wishers, seemingly unconcerned about the perils of space travel. He was also English, which meant that even if he was concerned, no one else would know it.
Prior prattled on for a good fifteen minutes. Geesh. He acted like he was about to embark on a yearlong journey around the planet.
I leaned against Ian, my feet silently protesting. “Is he ever going to stop talking?”
Ian chuckled. “You are so impatient.”
“And you’re not the size of a small house.”
The crowd started clapping. The blowhard was done.
Ian gave me an apologetic smile. “Luv, I need to have a word with Prior before he gets on the shuttle.”
“Go on. Say goodbye to him from me. I’m not pushing through the crowd.” It’s not like Prior and I were best buddies or anything. As Ian made his way over to him, I searched the hangar for a place to sit.
The revenant ship was the only other thing in the hangar. The port workers called it The Flying Dutchman after rumors circulated that the ghosts on it would whisk the colonists away. Total nonsense as far as I could tell, but several of the workers had been on tall ships during their human lifetimes and old sailor superstitions apparently never died.
The gangplank was down. Soothing yellow light filtered from the opening.
Herne’s invitation, “Come visit me some time,” echoed in my head.
With everyone else occupied, now seemed as good a time as any to take him up on the offer.